Frustration and disappointment were gnawing away at my insides. The deadline for the writing project was round the corner and if I failed to make a submission, I’d never be able to make peace with myself.
I stormed out of home with the car key in my hand and no destination on my mind. I dumped my bag on the passenger seat and then I saw it. It took every ounce of me to not pass out or dash out of the car screaming my lungs out! Staring at me out of the rear-view mirror was a pair of twinkling eyes behind a wired frame. My own. I turned my head so fast that it nearly caused my neck to crack but something about the little girl seated there calmed me down. Suddenly I knew where to go. I set the car in motion and cranked up the volume because today was my lucky day! With no bossy toddler riding in the car seat screaming at me to play his song, I curated a playlist that suited both of us, titled NOSTALGIA.
Still doubting whether my head had played a whacky trick on me, my eyes flitted from the road to the mirror every so often to double check whether the girl was really there! A hazy translucent version, but I could even then make out the young me dressed in a white shirt inside a royal blue pinafore with a hairband of the same colour to push my then short hair back, like a mini Anjali from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. When we saw a train pass by in the distance, I changed the song to Saathiya only to get a big shout out from her. The number of times I had stood at the door of the train going across the Vashi bridge, with Saathiya blaring on my earphones and the wind blowing in my face. Oh boy I could give Rani a run for her money!
When we reached the destination, I jumped out of the car and she joined me at my side. We looked around the place I had once called HOME until I moved away some years ago. The place seemed to be frozen in time. Most of the old three storey buildings, ironically, stood tall and proud in the face of the rising redevelopment business. The community was untouched by the city’s chaos and crowd, with nature having reciprocated the undying love from the residents. Overcome with emotion, unaware of what was driving it, my hand went for hers. What happened next blew my mind off! No sooner did our hands touch, than the colour of everything around us changed to a shade of deep brown, the kind you see in old photographs. The air felt eerie yet magical. In a flash I pulled away my hand only to see the colours restored to their original state! I repeated this action a couple of times that probably made me seem silly but I wasn’t able to grasp the situation. When I looked up and saw her assuring smile, it slowly made sense. I realised why everything looked the same yet felt different. I was going down the memory lane through a looking glass, only SHE was my looking glass. Her excitement was contagious! She had evidently planned this event in advance and now that we were together, she did not want to waste a single moment. Without asking any questions, I decided to follow her lead and see whatever it was that she had to offer me. We crept to the backside of the building that I had lived in, to get a clear view of my home on the ground floor that now belonged to another family. I knew this adventure would invoke a lot of emotions but the wave of nostalgia that hit me was surreal!
As we stood in the compound facing my home, I fondly remembered the number of parties my parents had hosted there over the years. We walked hand in hand to the kitchen window where my grandma, engaged in her morning routine, had her hand outstretched to feed the ghee residue to the hangry crows desperately calling out to her. The smell of her rasam wafting through the room and the familiar tune of Carnatic songs playing on her radio got my mouth watering and heart racing. As she moved, we got a better view of her beautiful yet simple wall mounted temple that housed more Gods than you would see in any South Indian temple! Grandma had an obsession with collecting idols and photos, sparing not even the small Ganesha on a wedding invitation. A sudden movement in the balcony startled me but I was delighted to see my grandpa walk into the balcony to take his place at the desk with his books. The fact that not one in his family had inherited his meticulous and disciplined way of living always amazed me, my dad being the worst of all. That man is going to live a 100 years!, I exclaimed to myself as we spotted him advancing toward the balcony with a loaf of bread in his hand after a morning walk. He called out my mom’s name in his typical style that always drove my mom mad. I had to suppress a giggle when I saw her raging into the balcony screaming that she was late for work. Somethings never change do they?
The looking glass signalled to me that time was running out. Craving for more family drama but keeping in mind the clock, I tagged along with her. I paused momentarily to look at the boy standing at his window from across our balcony. The borrowed book in his hand, Where Rainbows End, was mine. A birthday present from him. Innumerable things had been exchanged through those bars, from letters to books to garlic bread! The window of my ex-best friend. I didn’t realise that the looking glass had let go of me. Funnily the window of time had passed. The fallout had been written off as ‘too complicated’ and the rainbow had ended there.
Since the looking glass was away, I decided to do some loitering around. I was astonished to find the ancient postbox standing intact and made me wonder whether Postman Chacha still made the rounds, clad in khaki with a bag hanging over his shoulder full of papers to deliver. Outside my building was every hungry school child’s dream come true. I was overjoyed to see him because a trip down this lane without a plate of sevpuri would be incomplete. The boy was the same and so was the taste; the taste of nostalgia.
After licking my fingers clean, I got back on the road when the looking glass finally came into view. She was rooted to a spot and not willing to budge. Dying to know what she had to show, I made a grab for her hand and the very next second I saw a girl come running from the building across the road. I burst out laughing as she bent over at the spot to scoop up some pieces of paper strewn about and dash out of sight. For sure she was headed to my house, to fetch me to the spot to pick up the remaining bits of what was the very first love letter addressed to me that we had torn up the earlier night, without knowing what was in it! My best friend and I, the troublemaker duo of our time. From across the spot, I saw two boys climb up and take their places on the wall. The girls would join them shortly. It was time for the gang to meet up. The wall that had seen their fights and tears, drama and dreams was a second home to the gang. The school building on the end of the road was our next stop. We stopped at the gates to look at the bright long corridor, bustling with children running to their classes. A few moments later we heard the school bell ring followed by the start of our national anthem. The latecomers froze at attention waiting for the anthem to end so they could scamper off! Before I could explore further, the school suddenly turned into a dilapidated and lifeless building.
The looking glass was nowhere to be seen. I bolted for the car hoping to find her on the back seat but to no avail. Her disappearance had brought the trip to an abrupt end, leaving me dejected in her wake. I slumped behind the wheel pondering over the million questions that popped in my head. I was jolted out of my thoughts when the ringing sound reverberated through the car. A call from my son was the answer; a sign from her reminding me to love the past but live in the ‘present.’ I thanked her silently and hit the road ready to write anew.
C.A.: Confused Aquarian 